Melt
by skywalker05
Summary: So," Ross asked, "you like men in uniform?" A collection of Royai drabbles and a ScarLust drabble that snuck in there somehow .
1. Melt

_**A/N: **__My first Royai fic, though my second FMA. This was intended as a birthday present for wordswithout._

Riza Hawkeye paused in the doorway of Roy Mustang's office. The power had, for some reason, gone out half an hour ago, subduing the entire atmosphere of the military base. Havoc and the others were busy lounging about in a briefing room.

But they were always doing that.

And Riza was always at Mustang's back, as she was now, even though the office floor separated them. More times than she could count, Riza had fought for him. She upheld justice and order for Amestris, but she threatened and killed, withstood killing, for him.

He was flicking his fingers on the desk as he read something. With each movement, the candle beside him would shrink, and then stretch. She watched the subtle movement of his shoulders, of his dark hair against his collar and the back of his neck.

_Riza Hawkeye shows two faces to the world. The one which is more common, she gives to almost everyone. It is stern, uncompromising, dangerous._

_She shows another one to Roy, after or before the battles. It is not a face under which she can be frightened, or weak, or vulnerable, although vulnerability does sometimes appear in the conversations they have about life or war. Then she touches his hair and remembers fire, from the air or from her gun, and knows that weakness is not a factor. Strength is, and what one chooses to do with it. Alchemists once seemed inhuman to her. Her father, like herself, had two sides, two faces; the alchemist, and the man. But when Roy finished slinging fire around, he was as easy for a bullet to fly through as anyone was. He held a weapon in hand, just as she did. _

_The second side of Riza is more complicated, but the expression in her eyes then looks simpler. Because with him, she is happy._

In the moment when she stood in the dark hallway looking at the flickering candle and Roy's back, the two aspects of Riza were forced together. Gently they melded, her work-self and her love-self, in the darkened base.

She walked on with a smile.


	2. Uniforms

"So," Ross laughed. "You like men in uniform?"

Riza Hawkeye shook her head. "Do I look that spaced?" she asked, turning her gaze from the parade ground to her fellow officer.

"Yes."

"No," Riza replied.

"You do."

"That's not what I mean. I don't care about men in uniform. There are more bad memories than good ones associated with war. I like_ that_ man no matter what he's wearing."

This time Ross could follow Riza's gaze to Roy Mustang.

_A/N: wordswithout requested that I wrote a royai ficlet for her. This took me about 2 minutes at 2 in the morning. _


	3. Third Person

_3. Third Person _( a sneaky animeverse ScarLust drabble)

* * *

_I loved his brother._

I love him, as we sit in the shack, his body torn, mine so inhumanly perfect that I hate it.

_I loved being an 'I'._

_We homunculi, we are third person. We are sins. Lust loved them—no,_ I_ loved them, Scar and his brother-- and how appropriate._

He's dying. I smell the blood and his sweat and the sand on both of us. Do I only want to become human in order to die? What other choice is there? Is it the difference between lust and love?

_I loved him._

_I did._


	4. Children

4. Children

_One day when we're married and have children, they're going to be just as headstrong as you, aren't they, just as foolish (and I'll have no business telling them not to play with fire, but you just wait until one comes home burnt, Roy Mustang, you think I'm protective toward _you_), just as spontaneously idiotic as you. I'll love them and berate them and whatever I do it won't change one thing, because they'll be like you--one day they'll change the world. _


	5. Touch

5. Touch

She knows that he is so focused on his goal, that alchemy and power-managing are foremost in his thoughts, but in the same half-instinctual way she knows that when he casually touches her uniform over her shoulders blade he is not thinking of business, nor of the secret tattoos, but only of her.


End file.
